


Don't I Always?

by alistaircousland



Series: Don't I Always? [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, M/M, Slow Burn, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistaircousland/pseuds/alistaircousland
Summary: Blaine left a gaping scar that not even Sebastian's compassion can cure. Kurt, not wanting to get hurt all over again, chose to push Sebastian away, but Sebastian has made himself a seat in Kurt's heart, whether he knows it or not.





	Don't I Always?

Kurt should be used to being alone now. First his mother, then his brother, and lastly his father. It should be something akin to normality for him, being lonely, curled up under the blanket in his living room, a cup of steaming hot tea in his hands, some random Riverdale episode he’s been binging on the tv flashing colors at him, contrasting the otherwise dark apartment.

 

He’s 26, goddamnit. He’s an up-and-coming fashion designer living in the heart of New York, with everything he could ask for, and yet he’s feeling _lonely_. He’s too stubborn to pick up his phone and call the number that’s been _begging_ for him to click, to hear the voice he’s been missing for days since their argument, but he _can’t_. That means he needs the other guy and…

 

And Kurt is scared as he is lonely. He’s scared of commitment, after leaving one that crumbled to pieces over and over, scared of cutting his heart open and fall on his knees for a guy that would leave him again and again, for someone more _manly_ , someone younger, someone more…

 

Kurt holds his sniffles. He tries to focus on how unrealistic the PC agenda Veronica is trying to push down everyone’s throat, how Cheryl _always_ managed to look like a knock-off Jessica Rabbit, and how… how he _knew_ those are exactly what Sebastian would mention to him if he was there next to Kurt, his arms wrapping around Kurt’s shoulder firmly, their body heats warming each other, but not too much, just _enough_ …

 

Kurt also knows that Sebastian is just as stubborn as he is and he wouldn’t want to be the one to call first, especially when both of them knows Sebastian is, this time, the right party.

 

\--

 

_“I swear to God, Kurt, I’m not even asking for you to marry me! It’s just—we’ve been dating for what, three, four months now? I think it’s not really weird for me to actually call you my boyfriend, is it?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice level, but both of them knew he was already on the brink of shouting. Kurt winced at the thought, winced at how he knew it was all his fault, everything has always been…_

_“B-but you didn’t ask me first, Bas, you just spouted it out in front of all your coworkers and you know it’s going to get to your father’s ears and—”_

_“My father, who had been your father’s number one donator, is the one you’re worried about? Not the dickhead Jack that’s been nagging me to fuck him in every inch of the office, not my slightly homophobic boss Hannah? My father whom, may I add, adores your designs and is one of your investors? Really?” Sebastian was seething, his hands flat on the granite countertop, trembling from the frustration, but avoided to look at Kurt’s eyes, those blue eyes who were also looking at the ground next to Sebastian’s feet, still in his dress shoes; the two were actually still in their suits, still looking very dashing with Kurt’s own designs, just left the party Sebastian’s firm threw for him and his team’s success after winning a big case, but none of the festivities came with them to Kurt’s place._

_“No, I know we’ve been steady and—” Kurt held a sob “—and I’d like to believe that there’s no one but me just the way there’s nobody else for me but… but Bas, I just divorced my what, almost one decade of relationship one year ago, okay? It’s… I’m still not used to it.”_

_“It’s not about the divorce, Kurt.” Sebastian sighed and turned around, leaning at the countertop, finally looking at Kurt. His heart ached at the way Kurt was closing on himself, the way he wrapped his arms around himself, his legs closed, tight against each other, away from the reality._

_“It is, Bas, I promise, it’s not that I don’t like you, but it’s just…”_

_“It’s just that you’re scared I’ll just be the next Blaine.” Sebastian said, firmly, his arms crossed in front of his chest, making the suit press against his body, and—and Kurt shouldn’t really think of what that body had done to him so many times over the past months, how Kurt would rather have them in the bedroom, naked, and not speaking…_

_“No, I know you wouldn’t—”_

_“Kurt. I know I’m a little fish in the big, legal pond right now, but you tend to forget I get paid to read people. You say that, but—”_

_“Don’t pull that lawyer shit on me! I know you wouldn’t be the next Blaine!” Kurt stomped his foot on the ground, trying to make a point, but the way he trembled, the way he couldn’t see out of his tears weren’t helping his point._

_“You say that, but you don’t believe it.” Sebastian finished his sentence calmly, as if the other guy didn’t have an outburst before. “It’s okay, Kurt. I know we had a rough history. I wouldn’t trust myself either. But, Kurt. At least admit to it, okay? I won’t be mad.”_

_Kurt shook his head rapidly, his sobs uncontainable, he couldn’t see straight anymore, and he just… collapsed. “I’m not, I promise I’m not, I know you wouldn’t hurt me the way he did, Bas please…”_

_“Then why are we fighting over what I call you in front of my coworkers, Kurt?” A hand, calloused after so many years of sports, splayed on Kurt’s shoulder, rubbing softly. “Why did it matter so much to the point that you’re fucking crying over it?”_

_“I don’t—I don’t know…” Kurt tried between sobs, between gasps, but all he could muster was more tears, and he never wanted to be held and cradled, he wanted Sebastian to take care of him, but…_

_But all he got was a kiss on the forehead. “Kurt, you have to figure this out on your own. I’m sorry. I… I really like you, but… but you have to find out what do you want from us. I… I already told you what I want. It’s your turn.”_

_“Bas… Bas please don’t go… I’m so sorry…” He sobbed, but to no avail. He felt his body flush against Sebastian’s, the smell of his Tom Ford cologne, the one Kurt picked for him, attacking his nostrils and it’s the only thing Kurt would rather focus on, instead of the jumble that was his inability to trust the man that despite his vileness in high school, never failed to prove that he’s a reformed man, that he wanted to make Kurt happy, and yet… and yet…_

_“Call me when you make your mind up. Just…,” he heard a deep sigh, “…just. I don’t want to be another notch in your bedpost, okay? Make me stay or make me go… I won’t be mad, okay?” Sebastian kissed his forehead again, and the next thing Kurt knew, was the sound of his front door closing, the automatic lock he set up that was meant to keep his ex away, instead now felt like a prison, and he only could close in himself, curling up in a fetal position on his bed, still in his suit, and feeling that he just lost another person all over again. Only this time, the person was still alive and well, and Kurt had no one but himself to blame._

 

\--

 

Kurt’s eyes drifts to the kitchen, where the fight happened well over one week ago, the last time he saw or heard Sebastian, after nearly four months of constant dates and calls and sleepovers and… and Kurt never feels so alone, not after he lost his father to cancer, not after he finalized his divorce from Blaine. He knows that Sebastian was right; he was scared that he’ll just be the “poor guy that got cheated on again,” the guy that’s “never enough,” that despite everything, he’s just too “girly” and too “on the nose.” He’s been that as Blaine’s husband and Sebastian is, physically speaking, nowhere near Blaine’s level. They were both attractive, but on different levels; Blaine, the dashing, preppy, charismatic Broadway star and Sebastian, the alpha male, dominating, know-it-all up-and-coming associate in Smythe, Hartford, and Neiman, and that just gives the latter more choices of guys to date, wouldn’t it? Blaine found some—five, Kurt reminded himself, not counting the ones that happened during their college years—guys willing to be a ‘notch in his bedpost,’ the way Sebastian said it, and Sebastian… he could get with anyone. There’s probably a line of men with Harvard degrees running after Sebastian if he would just even hint that he’s available to his schoolmates and… and he chose Kurt?

 

It’s a disaster awaiting to happen, and Kurt is not very up to be the butt of the joke again.

 

So he lets his phone stay on the table, next to the remote, as he continues to sip at his now-lukewarm tea and watch more trashy rom-coms Netflix provided for him. At least in those, he’s not the guy that’s not enough, and whoever’s in that position, gets their happy ending.

 

\--

 

The last trigger was his cup of scalding coffee falling over his designs.

 

The newest assistant, Ella, is too scared to even mutter a ‘Sorry,’ knowing that Kurt held the designs dearly, each named after parts of the man’s name that’s stolen his heart—Edward, Ian, SES, to name a few—each adorned with detailed patterns and swirls and flowers that each reminded him of the most important moments of what they had, even for a while…

 

But Kurt merely looks at her and leaves.

 

He doesn’t even try to salvage what’s possible from the table. He leaves the studio, letting his assistants to deal with saving the ruined design, the hours of work he’d done within weeks of Sebastian walking away from his apartment, from his life, the last stuff that Kurt _swears_ will be about Sebastian, and after that he’ll try to move on.

 

Sebastian said he wanted to be with him, and yet no moves were made, even after almost a month after their argument. Kurt keeps telling himself that he’s done the right thing, not calling, not telling Sebastian that he _wants_ everything with him too, but he’s scared of being the undesired, the guy that’s replaceable with anything that walks with a dick, because it looks like he _is_ replaceable.

 

If he wasn’t, then Sebastian would’ve called him by now.

 

Kurt feels so stupid, being almost 30 and yet is head over heels over a man that didn’t think he was important enough to keep, just the way other men—or man, really—did in his past. He’s an accomplished young designer, dammit, he made sure he’s a household name in the fashion industry before he turned 30, and he’s moping over a guy that’s barely an associate in a Biglaw firm?

 

God, if people knew how pathetic Kurt actually is.

 

Soon, Kurt finds himself in his favorite spot in Central Park, sitting on a bench in front of the lake, secluded enough that not many people would walk over, but still central that he doesn’t feel lonely. He’s been feeling like such for weeks and it’s not a good feeling to keep.

 

Kurt knows he can just pick up anyone from a bar or Tinder to quench his loneliness, but he doesn’t want to. The only person that’s now able to do that is not his anymore—not that he’s been his anyway—and Kurt has to deal with it.

 

He’s okay.

 

“Hey, I didn’t think I’ll catch you here.”

 

He’s not okay.

 

“What do you want, Sebastian?” Kurt snaps.

 

“I just saw you from across. Thought I’d say hi.” Sebastian shrugs as he shoves his hands in his pants pockets, pants that Kurt _knows_ he made tailored for Sebastian, a tan suit piece that’s made to be worn with the green tie that—that Sebastian also wears, the whole piece intact sans the jacket.

 

“Lost the jacket?” he tries to be short, tries to be mean so Sebastian would leave him alone, but it falls flat.

 

“In the office. It’s summer.” Sebastian replies with a soft smile, a smile that makes Kurt’s heart skip a beat, because it’s so  _affectionate_ and so _Sebastian_ and Kurt can’t help but falling all over again. “What about you? You don’t usually go out from your studio for lunch.”

 

Kurt checks the clock at his phone. “I didn’t. A new assistant I hired was dumb enough to spill my coffee on my new designs. I’m just trying to not kill her on the spot.”

 

Sebastian barks a laugh, the way that makes him look very boyish instead of a man he’s becoming, his head facing upward as his chest heaved, one hand splayed on it, and… fuck, Kurt, you’re not supposed to _capture_ the details of a man that left you dry laughing, okay?

 

“Why are you here?” Kurt asks.

 

“I miss you.” Sebastian replies, just as short.

 

“You could call. You didn’t.” Kurt says. He then realizes that Sebastian’s been standing in front of him the whole time but makes no move to offer the seat next to him. He wants to play it cool, to make Sebastian see that he has everything together… although it’s clear for both of them none do.

 

“I was giving you space.” Sebastian mutters softly, nearly inaudible, and moves to take the seat next to Kurt, as if he could read Kurt’s mind. “I know you’re scared, I was, too, so I gave you space. Your answer is very clear, by the way. I won’t push my wishes on you anymore.” He made a cross with his fingers. “Promise.”

 

“But… why?” Kurt braces himself to look at Sebastian’s eyes, focusing on the green irises that gets brighter in the sun, irises he’s seen gone to black over lust, irises he also has seen gone so green over anger, and he really should stop studying Sebastian. He means nothing now.

 

“I’m not an asshole that revels in the fact that my partner doesn’t want what I want, Kurt. You don’t want a relationship with _me_ and I don’t want to be your fuck buddy. It’s fine.” Kurt can’t help but notice the emphasis on _me_ and not _relationship_. It makes his heart ache.

 

“You could’ve had anyone, Bas. Why me?” Kurt pushes again.

 

“Why not you?” Sebastian challenges.

 

“I don’t even have a college degree.” Kurt starts.

 

“Yeah, and you’re making more than I am already.”

 

“I failed at keeping a marriage.”

 

“Yeah, and I blinded your ex. I also bullied you to neverland.”

 

“I…”

 

“I’m the one who’s winning at life if I have you, Kurt, not the other way around.”

 

“Sebastian, I…” Kurt sighs. “I just don’t want you to realize that I’m not as amazing as you thought, and you’ll just stick it up at the next young secretary you have. Or coworker. Or… anyone.” There, he says it.

 

“I don’t know how to make you believe that I won’t do it.” Sebastian says honestly. “I planned on making you see it as time goes, but clearly I didn’t get the chance.” He sighs and stands up. “I need to go back; my break is almost over. Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I miss our banter.” With that, Sebastian leaves his life again, and Kurt can’t help but swallow the sob that threatens to get out.

 

Sebastian’s moved on.

 

So should he.

 

\--

 

 _Three months_. Three months is how much time has passed since Kurt last saw Sebastian in Central Park, and he’s still _not_ over him. How could he, when he tries to keep the other’s request to ‘not be a stranger,’ when they corresponds weekly, sometimes daily, slapping Kurt in the face over _what could have been_ , and _what could be_ , if he’s man enough to walk up and kiss Sebastian in the face?

 

The SES collection that Ella, his now ex-assistant, ruined three months ago, is soaring, pieces of it landing on magazine after magazine, placed on figures after figures—Kurt tries to keep every piece limited, only 50 each for Edward and Ian, but keeping only two pieces of SES, one for the runway and one for someone—and the texts _helps_ , okay? It keeps his head off from the loads of publication and the sudden re-interest in his life after the divorce happened. It makes him _smile_ , and that’s what’s important. His business partner, Elliott, which he shared the company with, would remark that he’s been happier than when he was still married to Blaine, which Kurt _knows_ is true, but he can’t admit it.

 

He’s falling for Sebastian, and it’s not good, because he _doesn’t_ want Blaine all over again. An attractive, younger man, seemingly safe within his reach, actually betraying him, on multiple occasions, just because he’s… him. Because he’s Kurt Hummel, and not someone else.

 

“If you keep him on the edge like this, he’s just going to go away sooner or later. He has needs too.” Elliott would say after the third ping came on Kurt’s phone, signaling a text.

 

‘ _Ya know, at least I get paid for staying overnight at the office._ ’ The message said. It wasn’t romantic, it’s actually very platonic, even bordering on boring, but Kurt couldn’t help but feel _special_ that Sebastian thinks of him in the first place.

 

“He’s always free to go, Ell.” Kurt murmurs, as his fingers hovers on the screen, thinking of a funny reply to maybe help Sebastian off the burden of being a rookie in the office.

 

“Do you want him to go? The last time he did, you’re a mess. Now that whatever you have with him don’t even involve fucking, he’s going to find it from someone else sooner or later. He’ll finally realize that pining after you is not worth it, not worth his time, and then you’ll be left, alone, for real, without Sebastian. Is that what you want?” says Elliott sternly.

 

“Fuck you, Ell. Just because you have a healthy and working long term relationship doesn’t mean everyone does.” Kurt spits.

 

“You can. The guy is ready. You’re just a prick that’s too insecure to fight for it.” Elliott spits back.

 

“Fuck you!” Kurt shouts, he’s sure their employees can hear him from outside, but he can’t bring himself to care as he takes long strides to his office and lock himself in, trying to calm down, but what gets out instead are sobs, silent ones, and the feeling of a _failure_ , for having everything and yet having nothing, still insecure after everything he’s done to escape his demons, still not _enough_.

 

He hates that Elliott is right, that Sebastian is young and can get whoever he wants, and soon enough, he’ll find that Kurt is just too much of a coward to admit that he’s falling for the other man, and he’ll find that Kurt is _not enough_ , and… and what they have, this… _friendship_ , is just going to crumble apart, just the way their relationship did, however small it was.

 

\--

 

When the news of Carlisle Smythe had a stroke, Kurt stops in his track. The news spreads rapidly within his office, as Carlisle had been one of the major investors that kickstarted his and Elliott’s fashion and make up venture, but that’s not what Kurt’s worried about. Kurt’s thought immediately runs to Sebastian, how close he is to his father, how scared he would be. As if on autopilot, Kurt’s fingers already tap on Sebastian’s name, anxiously listening to the ring, hoping that the other guy would answer…

 

 _‘Hi, you’ve reached Sebastian’s personal phone. If you’ve got the wrong guy, move along, if you’re in the right place, do leave a message. He’ll get back to you, when he wants to!_ ’

 

His own voice ringing in his ears, his and Sebastian’s shared laugh at the end of the recording, and… and it’s almost a year, since they started tentatively dating, the time period of when he recorded that for Sebastian’s voicemail because Sebastian couldn’t even bother to make a personalized one, and… and it just hits Kurt, how Sebastian has been very patient, and Elliott was right, he has to admit to what he’s feeling to the other guy if he wants to keep Sebastian in his life and… and why was he calling him again?

 

Fuck. Carlisle’s stroke.

 

“Uh. Hi. I heard about your father. Where is he now? I’d like to give him a visit. I know it won’t help much, but you know. I’ve been there before, and I’d like to—”

 

‘ _Whoops! That’s the limit. Sorry, we didn’t make the rule. Text the rest of the messages or make a new call, yeah? See you!’_

 

His voice rings again before the elongated beep sound, signaling that the call has ended, and he sinks in his seat. He can’t tell Sebastian now, can he? He would be using Carlisle’s news to get with his son and that doesn’t sit right. No. He’ll be a good friend, a good colleague, and be there for the Smythes as much as he can.

 

The text, consisting of only ‘ _St. Andrews_ ’ blares at him three hours after he made the call. The sun is already setting, and Kurt can see the traffic piling up on the streets underneath, but he’s already said that he wants to be there. So, he will. After he clocks in for the day and grabs his possessions, he flags a cab and sits in the traffic, god knows for how long, fiddling with his phone as if looking at it will make Carlisle magically wake up and be okay.

 

\--

 

“You came,” croaks Sebastian as he sees Kurt across him, between them his father’s unconscious body, machines beeping, making sure he’s still alive. The younger man looks like he’s about to die himself; bloodshot eyes, black rings under them, skin paler than usual, and the way that his hair is messier than what a good night of sex could do to a man. Kurt wants to reach out, to touch, to take him in his embrace and whisper small nothings, that everything will be okay, but it’s not proper. Not when Sebastian is scared shitless of his father, not when he’s a mess. Kurt can wait.

 

“I did.” Kurt says, among other things he’d like to say— _I’m sorry, the traffic is mad_ or _I’m sorry about your father, I hope he’s okay_ or _I love you_ —but he doesn’t say any. Instead he lets out a, “How is he?”

 

“Stable? I guess? I don’t know. My mom is still on the other side of the Atlantic. My sister is about to arrive any minute now from Ohio.” Sebastian blurts. “Fuck, you didn’t even ask that. It’s just… Sorry. Autopilot. Nurses asked about it about a million times now.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Kurt smiles in sympathy, as he has been in that end a couple of times already. That makes him think of Carole; how is she? He hasn’t been in touch with his stepmother for a long time since she said she’s selling their Lima home and going to move with her sister in Toledo. He needs to give her a call.

 

“Have you had anything to eat?”

 

“I don’t know. We were going out for breakfast when he just… fell over and. And then I’m here. So maybe no?” Sebastian gets out.

 

“Okay. I’ll grab some dinner for us, okay? Try to stay awake. Go get… water or something.” Kurt motions randomly to the room, remembering that hospital rooms would provide water. Or was that just Ohio hospitals? He can’t tell. He’s already bolting out of the hospital and to the street, remembering that he saw a Chinese restaurant down the block on the way there.

 

When he returns with the cartons of fried rice, fried noodles, and extra wontons, just the way Sebastian likes it, he has to face a nurse that’s vehement on not letting him in. “The Smythes are old friends of mine! Their family practically owns my company! Let me in, the least I could do to help is to feed their youngest son.”

 

“I’m sorry, but visiting hours _are_ over, Sir. Only immediate family is allowed to come after visiting hours, and you’re not. If it helps, I’ll make sure the food gets to Mr. Smythe, but that’s all I can do.”

 

Kurt sighs. “Yeah, okay. Tell Sebastian I’ll be back tomorrow, please. Thank you.”

 

\--

 

The day Carlisle wakes up is coincidentally also Sebastian’s 25th birthday. The mood was solemn for the whole day, despite it being a weekend and his whole family physically are together again since Christmas, but none of them feel like celebrating. Sebastian never gets up from his seat next to his father other than to relieve himself, and he never takes too much time to do it, anxious if he goes too long, he might miss something important.

 

Namely, his father’s last breath. It’s been one week since Carlisle drops in front of him and Sebastian is ready for any outcome. He has to be. His mother needs him, his sister needs him, and he can’t look weak in front of Kurt, not about this, not over a family member. He has to be strong, he has to stay strong, to keep everyone safe and…

 

“Fuck, can anyone turn off the light?” Carlisle’s deep voice rumbled above Sebastian’s head, one he kept low to hide his tears, and he only gaped at his father, his _alive_ father, after days readying himself that he’s losing his father at 25.

 

“Dad?” Sebastian mutters in disbelief, his voice hoarse after a mix of crying, dehydration, and disuse.

 

“Yeah. Please turn off the light, Sebastian, it’s fucking killing me.” His father makes sure to put his hand over his eyes, blocking the light.

 

“Dad.” Sebastian doesn’t do what his father asks, instead he drapes himself over his old man, hugging him, the way he would do when he was ten years old. “Dad, I miss you, I love you, please don’t go…”

 

“I’m not going, Seb.” Carlisle’s hands found his son’s hair and caressed it, the way he would do when his boy was a mere child, and not a fully-grown adult, but his boy will always his boy no matter the age. “Did I really go that long?”

 

“A week.” A nurse chimes as she goes in to check on Carlisle’s vitals.

 

“Wow.” He chuckles. “Where’s everyone?”

 

“Mom and Sophie went home for a change of clothes and shower. I think they’re also fetching Kiera.”

 

“Kiera…?”

 

“Your grandchild? Don’t tell me you forgot Kiera. You wouldn’t let her out of your sight when she was born.”

 

“Mr. Smythe, the side effects of a stroke may also include memory loss.” The nurse politely scolds Sebastian.

 

“Yeah but, my dad adores Kiera! You remember Kiera, right?” Sebastian nudges his father, but what he gets is a blank stare.

 

“Mr. Smythe, your father just woke up. It may need more than a nudge to jog his memory back. It will come back, I promise.”

 

Sebastian resigns to his seat and nods slowly, letting the nurse to continue her examination on his father. How much does his father remember, then? Kiera has been a permanent figure in his father’s life, after his separation from Sebastian’s mother, doting on his granddaughter as if she’s the only person that matters and… and he forgot about her?

 

How much does he remember? And what else does he forget?

 

“Seb, maybe you should go back too. I know you’ve been here the whole time I’m here, but I’m fine. Go get a shower and proper food.” His father pats his shoulder and on autopilot, his feet leads him away and out of the hospital, into a cab, and back to his place.

 

Then everything goes like a blur—shower, change of clothes, ordering pizza—and as he sits on the sofa in his living room, he calls a number he knows would understand the best.

 

“ _Hey._ ”

 

“Hi. My dad woke up.”

 

“ _That’s great! How is he? Would you like to—_ ”

 

“He doesn’t know Kiera.”

 

“ _Oh_.”

 

“It’s weird! He… you know how he adores her! She’s basically his world! And he just forgets her the moment his head hit concrete?”

 

“ _The brain is a messy thing, Bas. You can’t predict it._ ”

 

“Out of all the people that he could forget, it has to be Kiera.”

 

“ _He’ll remember her! Just bring her around often, let the two interact as usual_.”

 

“He forgot her, Kurt…”

 

“ _It’s okay, it’s normal in a stroke. My grandmother once forgot that she’s Canadian after her third stroke. It was rather comical._ ”

 

“It’s not okay! It’s not normal!”

 

“ _Okay._ ”

 

“It’s just…” by then Sebastian is already sobbing, “it’s scary.”

 

“ _I know._ ”

 

“What if the same happens to me? What if one day I hit myself in the head and everything, everyone that mattered to me, is lost to history?”

 

“ _Then the people in your life will help you remember._ ”

 

“What if there’s no one?”

 

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

 

“My parents are pushing 70. My sister is 30-something. What if they’re gone when that happens?”

 

“ _You have me_.”

 

“Yeah, like you’re going to stay.”

 

“ _Bas._ ”

 

“You’re not, Kurt, you’re just humoring me.”

 

“ _What if I tell you that I want more?_ ”

 

Sebastian scoffs inbetween tears. “Fuck off. You’re just saying that to make me happy.”

 

“ _I’m not. Well, I am. But I also want more. I have been for long, but… but I’m scared of repeating history._ ”

 

“Yeah. You made sure that that’s ingrained in my head. BACK OFF KURT HE DOESN’T TRUST YOU, it says.”

 

“ _I know. I’m sorry. But recent events reminded me that nothing is forever and… and I want to take the risk with you. I really, really like you. And I care about you. And I want to take you in my arms and listen to your day, I want you to take me to your firm’s silly, lavish parties and have everyone knows that I’m yours, I want… us._ ”

 

“I’m…”

 

“ _You’re not in a good place to say yes or no. I’m not asking you to. It would be unfair, after hanging you dry for months, and expecting you to jump in as soon as I say I want more. But I’m here, yeah? Your father will be okay, he’ll remember Kiera again, and when everything calms down, you can tell me what you want._ ”

 

“I… yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

 

“ _Okay. Is there anything else in your mind?_ ”

 

“Just… thanks, Kurt, for helping me through this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.”

 

“ _Of course_.”

 

“I’ll… I’ll talk to you when everything’s okay.”

 

“ _Okay. Stay safe, Bas. Tell your family I said hi._ ”

 

“Okay. Bye, Kurt.”

 

\--

 

“Next time” turns out to be two weeks, after Carlisle has adapted to his therapy, after his sister went back home to Ohio and his mother to France, when Sebastian picks up his phone and dials Kurt’s number.

 

“ _Yeah, and that would look better with some lace wouldn’t it? Maybe we should get—oh, hey, Sebastian! Sorry, yeah, okay, give me a minute, okay. Okay, hey, Bas._ ”

 

“If I’m bothering, I can call you later.”

 

“ _No, no. We’re just preparing for London Fashion Week._ ”

 

“Wow. That’s… wow. Congrats, Kurt.”

 

“ _I know! Everything’s been so hectic, but I **love** it. What about you? I heard Carlisle is recovering very well._”

 

“Yeah. He remembers Kiera now.” Sebastian chuckles, remembering his outburst when his father forgot his niece. “They’re inseparable. Daniel has to stay back to keep an eye on both.”

 

“ _Oh? Sophie’s back in Ohio?_ ”

 

“Yeah. She’s just made managing partner so she can’t leave for too long.”

 

“ _Aw, Kiera must miss her mom._ ”

 

“Yeah but being around her _Grand-pere_ is good enough, I suppose.”

 

Both laugh at the thought.

 

“When is London?”

 

“ _Uhh. February 14, I think. I’ll have to double check it._ ”

 

“Still a few months away.”

 

“ _Yeah, but design doesn’t just manifest out of air like New Directions setlist._ ”

 

“No, that’s a good thing. I was wondering, would you like to go to dinner? Next Saturday, perhaps?”

 

“… _Of course, Bas._ ”

 

“Good. Don’t forget to dress nice.”

 

“ _Don’t I always?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it! This started mainly as a hurt/comfort, I actually planned to make Kurt call Sebastian the first time, but I thought there's so much room to go deeper and... well... this is it.
> 
> Also, the thing about stroke is based on my own uncle, which would constantly get short term memory loss after several strokes, but regaining it in time. I'm not sure if it's the same with everyone or not, and if it isn't, then I'm sorry.


End file.
